Vindication II
by L4zyD5zy
Summary: Sequel to Vindication. Magic has been re-introduced to Camelot, with Arthur now as the king. But times are rocky, and transitions don't always come easily. Merlin escapes the grips of a sadistic torturer only to fall into the clutches of another. Whump.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N I already posted this section as a teaser near the end of my first story. ****Some small changes here and there, mostly grammatical. Read it again if you like! If you don't want to read the first story, here are the important status updates from my AU:**  


******-Merlin's magic was revealed to Arthur (and Uther), he is now Court Sorcerer. In the last story, he was tortured by a man named Ramsay.  
-Uther is in a coma, he was almost killed by Agravaine  
-Gwaine, Lancelot, and the knights are in court now  
-Morgana, Morgause, and Mordred are with Cenred, still plotting a Camelot takeover  
-Gaius has a new apprentice, who is also Arthur's squire, named Ronan**

_"I told you not to disappoint me."_

_Merlin nearly jumped out of his skin. He was completely vulnerable: sitting on a dungeon floor, arms chained above him to a ring in the wall, legs bound in irons chain to a ring on the floor, blindfolded, gagged with a belt, magic-suppressed. He had been tortured by a madman named Ramsay over the last week, who wanted Merlin to cast spells that allowed him to kill and hunt better._

_"Is Arthur your former master?" Ramsay crouched down and gripped Merlin's chin tightly. He tried to turn his face away but couldn't release himself from Ramsay's grip. "I'm your master now. I think you need to be given a little reminder." Ramsay leaned his face against Merlin's cheek and stroked it a bit, before whispering, "I think I'll go kill him."_

_Merlin struggled as much as he could against his bonds, tugging at the rings bolted into the concrete. He felt incredibly frustrated, unable to use his powerful magic, unable to protect anyone, not even himself._

Rnnnghf!_ He cried out as he felt a hard kick to the ribs._

_"Tell you what Merlin, I'm in a good mood today, and I feel like being entertained," Ramsay tugged the blindfold down. Merlin's eyes were bloodshot and moist—he saw everything through a blurry haze due to how tight the blindfold had been cinched around his head. Ramsay went to a table outside the cell, and came back carrying a sinister-looking contraption made out of snake-skin. It looked like a helmet of sorts, composed of various loops and straps that buckled around the head and chin. Ramsay held it up to Merlin's face._

_"I'm told this was an instrument of torture, created by High Priestesses from the skins of a Nathair [1] snake." Ramsay pointed at some etchings carved into the skin, "Now I'm going to need your help on this. I'm told that the most powerful warlocks can perform this incantation without even saying the words out loud, and I know you are that powerful, if not more." Ramsay clapped Merlin's shoulder, almost pridefully. Leaning in close to Merlin's ear, he whispered, "Perform the incantation. Say the words in your head."_

_It was not a request. Merlin knew where this was going, and looked back and forth between the torture device and Ramsay despairingly. Ramsay's nostrils began to flare as he saw Merlin hesitate. His eyes narrowed. _

_"I will find Arthur, and kill him. I am a VERY good hunter," Ramsay growled._

_Not wanting to incite the madman any further, Merlin shifted his eyes to the incantation on the Nathair skin and began saying it in his head. Small flashes of his buried magic shot forth but Merlin could not grasp onto them. Fearfully, he began to imagine a series of gruesome scenarios in which Ramsay captured and killed Arthur, inciting him to persist forth with greater intensity. Finally, his pupils lit up with a faint gold glimmer, and the etchings on the Nathair skin began to glow—Merlin felt a dark force sucking the magic out of his eyes and into the helmet. _

_"Good!" Ramsay praised, tone now cheerful again as he watched the snake-skin glow bright white, then slowly fade. "Now, I hope you'll reward my magnanimity," he began strapping the contraption around Merlin's head, "—in giving you this minor punishment, which won't even create any lasting physical damage, instead of killing Arthur—and you'll thus not disappoint me, again."_

_Merlin's breathing began to come in short, panicked bursts. His chains clanked as he struggled weakly against them, unable to break away from this unending nightmare. Distantly, he heard himself gurgling and pleading through the gag. Ramsay ignored this and slowly checked all the buckles on the helmet, making sure everything was strapped down nice and tight. Once he was sure that there was no slack, he stood up to go get a bowl of Fomorrah blood from the table. Coming back in, he crouched down and smiled as he stared at Merlin's terrified eyes, drinking in the delicious fear. Dipping one finger in, he took the inky, black liquid and touched it to a triangle etched on the portion of belt strapped across Merlin's forehead, pressing down. In an instant, Merlin's world was flooded with blinding white agony, worse than anything he'd ever felt before in his life, unbearable. It was like he was being struck with lightning, jolts of electrifying pain coursing through his body up and down, over and over. As all the muscles in his body tensed up, his midsection lifted off the ground, held back only by his restrained limbs. Suddenly it was over—Ramsay had removed his finger, and was smiling widely, almost giddily, at Merlin, obviously entertained by the suffering he had witnessed._

_"Arthur's not your master anymore, he doesn't want you. He told me to do this to you," Ramsay taunted. Merlin hung limp in his chains, unresponsive. "Stop being loyal to him, stop resisting me, serve me, I am your new master." Ramsay gripped Merlin's chin with one hand, and held the other hand, the one with the blood-stained finger, close to Merlin's forehead, threateningly._

_As terrified as Merlin was, he refused to cede this last part of his dignity to his torturer. He felt like he was going to die soon anyway. He glared into Ramsay's eyes defiantly. _Never, _his eyes said_. _Ramsay's face darkened. "I told you not to disappoint me," he pushed his finger to Merlin's forehead again and watched the boy writhe in pain and yelp pitifully like an injured dog, "But you provide entertainment."_

Merlin woke up with a shout. His bedsheets were drenched in sweat and he had managed to get tangled up in them. Dim gray lighting of the early morning dawn filled the room, casting shadows along the contours of the bedding. Someone was knocking at the door.

"Sire? Is everything alright?"

Merlin took in a large breath in and held it for a couple seconds, before exhaling it slowly. "It's fine, I'm alright." Clanking metal footsteps slowly receded from the door to Merlin's chambers. His upgraded title as Court Sorcerer had certainly come with its share of benefits, such as swanky new quarters and a large increase in salary. Personally, he missed his little room at the top of Gaius's chambers, but that was now occupied by Arthur's new squire, a boy named Ronan.

"MY LORD!" the doors burst open. Merlin groaned—it was George. Arthur had assigned George to be Merlin's personal manservant, probably as a joke, because he had become more like Merlin's personal stalker. It seemed like every time Merlin turned the corner George was standing there, asking if Merlin needed more food or clothes that needed tailoring. "My lord! I heard that there was a disturbance in your room, and I came as soon as possible. How may I be of assistance?"

"I'm not a lord," Merlin muttered sleepily, "and I'll be fine. There was no disturbance, really."

George clapped his hands and a couple servants came in carrying towels, a water basin, and…were those flower petals?! "You two, go get a fire started," George gestured at two of the boys.

"I…can get ready myself George, I've been telling you…" Merlin mumbled half-heartedly, trailing off as he saw one of the servants sprinkle petals into the wash basin. "Erm…"

"The physician has informed us that these petals have excellent calming effects and should be helpful when used long-term for your recent night terrors."

"Oh. Great." _It'll also be helpful for Arthur…who obviously needs more reasons to call me a girl._ Merlin rolled his eyes and smiled, thankful to be back in the waking world, where he was serving his best friend, Arthur, the once and future king, and no longer at the hands of a psychopath torturer. Rolling off the bed, he started get ready for the day.

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

"Come in!" Gaius answered when he heard a knock on the door. Looking at Ronan, "You better finish that quickly."

The boy made a face but quickly began shoveling the porridge down. Gaius turned around to see Merlin step in, who seemed to hover hesitantly at the door, "Oh…you're still having breakfast, I can come back."

"No, no, that's fine. I have more time to talk now than later actually. In the afternoon I will be going to the Lower Town." Gaius ushered Merlin towards the table, and had him sit down next to Ronan, who scooted away.

"Wow, I don't remember Gaius's food being _that_ appetizing," Merlin joked as he watched Ronan inhale the food before him.

Ronan shrugged, "I don't want to be late." As he slurped up the last little morsels, he jumped up and headed for the door.

"Don't forget to pick me up some of those herbs I asked for when you finish on the training field!" Gaius reminded.

Merlin felt a small twinge of nostalgia mixed with a hint of jealousy, noting that these tasks used to fall under his domain. "How's he doing?"

"Quite well actually, not as talkative as you were," Gaius's eyes twinkled. "Which always surprised me, given the gravity of your secrets." Merlin gave a lopsided grin as Gaius shook his head and sat down to eat his breakfast. Gaius sniffed the air, "You used the violet water. How has your sleeping been?"

Merlin sighed, "It's strange. I had a remarkable recovery after the first couple weeks, but then things got worse for a while."

Gaius chewed thoughtfully, "That makes sense, your initial recovery could have been more adrenaline-related, and after it wore off your body had to climb itself out of a vastly weakened state. Your body as well as your mind."

Merlin nodded, "It was more than adrenaline though, it felt like, external help…magical healing, as I mentioned to you before."

"You really think another sorcerer may have assisted in your escape? Why didn't they come forth as your savior then?"

"Not sure…but I'm sure their magic was healing me in those first couple weeks. I think also, that whoever cast the spells, wasn't well-versed in this type of magic, and thus left behind some unintended side effects."

"Side effects? Like what?"

"Well, I think sometimes I see flashes, memories, except they're not my memories, they're somebody else's."

"Oh? Did you figure out who saved you then?"

"Not really…it was too fragmented," Merlin said, but an underlying suspicion crossed his mind. He didn't say it out loud, because the thought seemed preposterous. "Well I've got to get going, I have a big meeting with some of the councilors today," Merlin got up and headed for the door—images of purple violets, sunshine, and billowing black hair running through his head.

* * *

"Speak directly Morgana, what is it you want to know?"

Morgana quelled the sense of revulsion she felt as she regarded the shriveled old creature before her. It was the Dochraid. "I want to know more information about this particular type of magic. The scroll doesn't elaborate beyond the mentioning of mental stability."

"It is a derivative enchantment—a twisted version of a purer, more powerful spell. The original magic has become lost to this world, all traces of it wiped after Uther's Purge. Luckily, most priestesses of the Old Religion preferred this dark version anyway, which survived." The Dochraid bared her teeth in what seemed to be an attempt at a smile, "For those who are ruthless enough, the enchantment has many shortcuts that allow the practitioner to quickly increase their power level. For example, once the first basic proficiency with the incantation been achieved, after the forty days, a practitioner may drink the blood of other sorcerers to rapidly increase magic power.

Morgana shuddered internally, "I see."

"Depending on the amount consumed, and whether or not the other sorcerer was killed in the process, this method combines not only the powers of both sorcerers into one body, but also melds the souls and memories of both people. It creates…a new and different person. As you might imagine, this bodes ill for mental stability..."

"That's enough!" Morgana caught herself before her outburst got out of control, "Thank you. I'll be on my way." The Dochraid bowed and disappeared into the shadows. Morgana, heart plagued with worry, crossed her arms and strode briskly out of the cave, back towards Cendred's castle, where Morgause and Mordred were discussing the plans for luring Merlin into a trap.

[1] Season 4 Episode 13: The Sword in the Stone


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Get ready for a big surprise ;)**

"Keep your head down, don't look anyone in the eye—if you just follow the rules and do as you're told, no one will look twice. If you want to practice shooting and sparring, get to the training grounds early in the morning, before other people arrive." Gaius advised to Ronan.

"I know, I know, I'm not a child." Ronan scrunched his face up, looking childish. "Though I'm not sure how I'm supposed to spar _alone_."

"Remember also, when you go to the woods, check and make sure that no one follows you. If anyone sees you leaving or asks questions, show them this paper," Gaius continued lecturing. "I packed the things you need in that bag by the door, they'll make the job easier, you won't have to use as much energy as before. And pick me up some violets, while you're there, they'll be helpful for Merlin's sleep disturbances. Do you remember the description I gave you?"

"Heart-shaped leaves, deep purple flowers, five petals."

There was a knock at the door. "Come in!" Gaius answered, then looked at Ronan, "You better finish that quickly." The door swung open and Merlin stepped in, hovering hesitantly at the door.

"Oh…you're still having breakfast, I can come back."

Gaius insisted Merlin stay and ushered him to sit down at the table. Ronan kept his head down and scooted over to make room. Merlin tried unsuccessfully to engage Ronan with a joke and catch his gaze, but the boy sprang up like a coil as soon as he finished breakfast, and bolted out the door. However, as soon as Ronan was out in the hallway, his blank facial expression dropped, like it was a mask. _Fiiiinally,_ Ronan thought, feeling more excited as he jogged towards the archery fields. No one else was around yet when he got there—the sun was just beginning to rise above the horizon. Picking up a bow and arrow, he took aim, and released. The target whizzed forward and landed square in the bullseye.

_Clap. Clap. Clap._

Ronan spun around in alarm.

"Not bad." Gwaine sauntered over, "How'd a little village boy learn to shoot arrows?"

"My father taught me…he was an armorer," Ronan responded stiffly.

Gwaine grinned and threw him a wooden sparring sword, "Catch."

Ronan reached for it but was too late—the sword thudded onto the grass. Face reddening, he leaned down to grab it, but just as his fingers curled around the grip, Gwaine knocked it out of his hand. "HEY! I wasn't looking!"

"Exactly. Which would be the perfect moment for an enemy to strike." Gwaine pointed at the fallen sword, "Pick it up."

Keeping his eyes on Gwaine, Ronan reached his hand out, slowly this time, but deliberately. He grabbed the sword in one swift movement and withdrew, placing his body into a sparring position.

"That's more like it. Let's see what you've got."

* * *

"Mordred, please talk to me."

"I am talking to you Morgana. I've been talking to you every day, what more do you want?" Mordred was walking quickly along the hallway, as Morgana scurried to stay in stride with him.

"Can you just, stop walking for a moment? I just-"

Mordred stopped abruptly, causing Morgana to crash into him. Turning around, he forced a smile, "What is it, my love?"

Morgana paused a moment, wringing her hands, "That dark magic scroll you used, to practice magic of the Old Religion, do you think perhaps, it was too much for you?"

"Too much for me?"

"Isn't it possible that you've been damaged by some of the side effects? More than you care to acknowledge?"

Mordred's smile dropped, and his face darkened, "Ramsay is the one who was damaged."

"You're a powerful warlock Mordred, I'm not saying you aren't," Morgana added quickly as she caught Mordred's expression, "But you're still a _young_ warlock, and your powers are not what they will be in ten years time. I went to speak with the Dochraid…and I think you may have taken on magic that's too powerful for you to control. It's…might be hurting you…changing you…" even as she spoke, Morgana noticed the slight changes in Mordred's appearance, how much taller he'd become, and how his hair had become a lighter brown (were his eyes always green?), "but I think I can help."

"Is that so?

"Yes! You see, I learned a spell recently—it can put up some temporary blocks in your mind that will wall off the negative energy swirling around in your body—energy that isn't yours," feeling more confident as she explained, Morgana gave a small smile, "I won't let anything bad happen to you." [1]

Mordred didn't say anything, but walked towards Morgana. He kept on advancing until she was almost pinned up against the wall. Then he leaned his face up against hers, cheek to cheek, voice barely higher than a whisper, "But bad things have already happened to me Morgana. And you weren't there to stop them. You were too busy helping Emrys."

Morgana was taken aback, Mordred had never talked to her like this before. "I didn't…"

"He was on the brink of death, after weeks of torture and poisoning. A infant stood better chances of escaping than him. No…he couldn't have run away on his own—he couldn't have even woken up—unless you helped him. And you did more than just help, didn't you? You used every ounce of magic you had within you to save him."

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." Morgana trailed off as Mordred spun around abruptly and departed. Waves of shock, shame, and guilt were crashing over her. It was true. What Mordred said. In fact, the very spell she had mentioned, about setting up barriers to temporarily ward off destructive energy and memories, was one she had learned to help heal Merlin.

The spell was complicated and she hadn't been very good at it then—just prior to breaking him out of Ramsay's dungeon; she just barely managed to put couple flimsy walls in Merlin's mind. The spell flickered in and out, not providing continual effectiveness. When the walls were up, Merlin would have moments of peace and quiet, where he functioned with selective amnesia—not remembering any of the bad things. He kept calling Morgana by the name of Freya, and seemed unaware of his predicament—even managing to joke around. But these protected recovery periods were interspersed with moments of violent disquietude, where the memories of his torture would come crashing down—a crippling experience on his consciousness, fraught with hallucinations and shaking. Morgana had hoped that eventually when the course of her spell ran out, Merlin would be back in Camelot and able to recover on his own, with an army of medical support available to him. She told herself she was simply repaying Merlin for kindnesses he had shown her in the past.

Amidst this reverie, Mordred's accusatory eyes suddenly swam into her mind. _I won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise._ [1]

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

"I will not sign this piece of rubbish," Morgause insisted. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Morgana slip into the council chambers, hastily wiping at her eyes as she walked over to an available chair.

"But Morgause, you must see reason here. What purpose have we to continue invading Camelot? The new king has lifted the ban on magic and has promised a re-evaluation of policies he deemed as unfair." One of the sorcerers was waving around a handful of papers.

Another one jumped in, "Yes, in fact, the Druids say that a legendary warlock has been appointed as official Court Sorcerer. He is to be our voice in the process of this transition and ensure that our rights are represented."

Morgause sneered, "You mean, the boy who was once the prince's manservant? Who stood idly by while Uther continued to hunt and slay our kind? You trust him to be our voice?"

There was silence. Some of the sorcerers shifted uncomfortably in their seats. "King Arthur has decreed that he will ride out to numerous Druid camps and magical hideouts, as a sign of peace. That seems like a show of good faith. We want to avoid bloodshed if possible…"

Fury flashed across Morgause's eyes. "OUT! ALL OF YOU GET OUT." Chairs scooted back deafeningly as the sorcerers hastened to exit Cenred's council chambers. "Bunch of useless, spineless cowards," she muttered. Mordred glided towards her from a spot against the wall.

"Cheer up. Agravaine delivered us the route that Arthur and Merlin are going to take. It arrived by raven this afternoon."

"That festering worm? Almost getting himself caught with Uther's assassination debacle. It's a wonder he's still alive, and at court," Morgause said scathingly.

"You're just mad because he says we shouldn't kill Arthur."

"And why shouldn't that make me mad? Taking orders from a coward."

Mordred took on a patronizing tone, "The country loves Arthur. If we killed him, everyone would revolt. No one would subject to Morgana's rule. We need to depose of Arthur publicly. Once we've taken the city, we need to keep him on as a puppet."

Morgause lifted an eyebrow, "Since when did you get so devious Mordred?"

Mordred ignored the question, "What we need is power, power to take the city. And that power will come from Emrys. Willingly, or not."

Morgana was staring at her lap, and said softly, "I'd like to accompany Mordred, in capturing Emrys."

"Oh, you mean to atone for your mistake?" Mordred sneered.

Morgause didn't seem to notice, and nodded, "I'll need to do some strategizing and preparing with Cenred over the next couple of months. I trust you two can take care of this."

"I just need to head into the woods to gather some final materials," Mordred announced.

* * *

"You've been through a lot lately Merlin. Gaius says you shouldn't be going on long excursions right now; you should be resting and recovering."

"Magic is no longer outlawed, you're the king, and we're about to enter an era of peace! All-in-all, I'd say I'm actually doing quite well, better than ever…well, barring the occasional bad memory…" Merlin paused, "besides, I don't think I'll be able to do much recovering if I have to spend all day worrying about you being an idiot and getting into potentially fatal situations."

"_Fatal_ situations?" Arthur's pitch cranked up incredulously.

"You…_do_ remember me describing all the copious and creative ways people have tried to assassinate you…right? Because there were a LOT."

Arthur huffed, "Well I didn't understand much about magic then, didn't know what to look for. _Now_ I do," crossing his arms, "just need to keep my eyes peeled for servants that are _really _bad their job, because they're most likely spending their time doing non-sanctioned activities instead of their chores. Meanwhile, if instead of deceiving their masters, they had just come out in the open about things, a lot of bad situations might have been averted. Oh and you know what? They'll probably be pretty mouthy too."

"Ouch! Somebody's got some underlying anger issues that need to be addressed…"

"_Anger issues?!_" Arthur pointed at his crown, "You see this shiny yellow piece of metal here, on my head? It means I'm your king, which means you are actually supposed to obey me unquestionably and unfailingly."

"Does that line ever actually work on anyone?" Merlin had to duck as Arthur chucked a balled-up shirt at him.

Arthur sighed, "I'm not going to be able to stop you from coming am I?"

Merlin grinned and shook his head, "It'll be fun. Just like old times, except now I don't have to hide the fact that I'm saving your backside all the time."

Arthur mumbled grumpily and went back to perusing the papers at his desk—peace treaties he was going to sign with the leaders of various Druidic tribes. Merlin walked over to the window and hopped up to sit on the ledge. Across the courtyard, he saw Ronan jogging sprightly through the citadel gates with a burlap sack by his side. For a moment, Merlin swore he saw green eyes again, but blinked and shook his head, _Ronan's eyes are brown_, he told himself. _I should try apologizing again sometime, things still don't seem right between me and him_ [2].

The door banged open and Gwaine staggered through the doorway, "Arthurrr! _C'moonnnnn_, don't be such a princess." Ever since the council meeting ended, Gwaine had been trying to convince everyone to head to the tavern, but it seemed the tavern had already found him.

Arthur however, couldn't be goaded, "What I'm being, actually, is a king."

Gwaine slung one of his arms around Lancelot, who had just poked his head in, "Fine then, me and Lance will just have all the fun without you."

"Don't let him get out of hand," Arthur cautioned looking at Lancelot, who nodded in understanding and began walking Gwaine out. This was no easy task, as Gwaine seemed determined not to walk in a straight line. It was with great difficulty that they managed to reach the main courtyard. Stumbling through the citadel gates, Gwaine spotted Ronan and tried to usher him over, but the squire shook his head and held up a piece of paper with tasks from Gaius listed on it.

"That can wait, can't it?" Gwaine whined. Ronan shook his head and sprinted off.

Lancelot smiled, "A good lad."

"Aye, _too_ good."

"Haha, not everyone's as cavalier about breaking the rules as you are Gwaine."

"No I don't mean just that," Gwaine argued, "He's too good…to just be a village boy."

"Some of us aren't quite so lucky to be born with the noble titles that afford us opportunities for our talents."

"Indeed," Gwaine clapped Lancelot on the shoulder, "and some fine men among them," then continued, "But I was saying that Ronan's archery skills, basic combat training, and knowledge of court behavior is far beyond what I'd expect…I mean, what village boy's father teaches him-" His contemplations were cut short as they arrived at the tavern, where many of the knights were already gathered. A couple of them shouted and began roaring in laughter as Gwaine entered.

"How many will it take before Gwaine the Great lands on his arse today? HAR HAR HAR!"

"More than it takes you!"

* * *

Ronan slowed down as he finally exited the citadel gates. Far away from the judgmental looks of people in court, he always felt more at ease. While in the Lower Town he stopped to buy a baked sweet potato—his favorite—the shopkeeper gave him two, "You've lost weight little lad—could scarcely recognize you today!" Carts were beginning to roll by as farmers headed back to their homes. Still munching on the sweet potatoes, Ronan skipped along playfully, kicking up bits of dirt as he progressed.

"Oy, watch yourself!" one of the men on carts yelled, but chuckled as Ronan made a face and ran off. Further down along the main path out of the city, he broke off from the carts, heading towards the tree line. As he began to tread deeper into the woods, towards a stream Gaius had brought him to last time, he thought of the old physician's words from that morning, _When you go to the woods, check and make sure that no one follows you. _"I know!" Ronan said aloud and glanced around. Overhead the sky became dusty gray as the sun was setting, further obscuring the features of the forest. Luckily, the creek was not far off and soon Ronan could hear trickling sounds ahead. Running up to the grassy bank, he dumped the contents of his sack on the ground. Gathering up a peculiar-looking goblet and the small vials, he brought them over to the stream. Amidst the moving water, Ronan caught a glimpse of himself. A pair of bright green eyes stared back.

_I packed the things you need in that bag by the door, they'll make the job easier, you won't have to use as much energy as before._ [3]

"I sure hope so," Ronan quickly filled the goblet up and whispered some words under his breath, causing the water to bubble and shimmer. He put the cup to his lips but paused at the sound of rustling in bushes. "Who's there?"

A shadowy figure stepped out. Ronan squinted for a moment and then gasped, dropping the goblet, which thudded softly onto the grass, spilling the liquid within. "You… but…they said you died…Camelot's scouts found your body in pieces!"

The shadowy figure smiled, "Now is that any way to greet a brother?"

"R-ramsay, I don't know how you're doing it, or what kind of twisted, dark magic you're using, but it's wrong. That body doesn't belong to you, and you should be dead."

"Ramsay _IS_ dead, Riona. My name is Mordred. I've simply absorbed Ramsay's soul, and with it, his power…and all his memories."

"You-you stupid idiot! You absorbed his soul? You've made him immortal! You're…you're probably becoming him!" Ronan scrambled backwards and jumped up, breaking into a run. Mordred opened the palm of his hand and shot out a glowing white ring. Rotating like a boomerang, it sliced into Ronan's calf, splashing blood onto the ground.

"AHHHH!" Ronan screamed, but kept running—albeit with a limp.

"Ha ha," Mordred chuckled, "Run on back to Camelot…_little sister_. I've gotten what I need, for now." He watched the retreating figure for a few moments, before opening an empty vial and collecting some of the blood that had spattered on the ground, blood spilt from the girl he had just injured.

* * *

[1] Season 1 Episode 8: The Beginning of the End

[2] In the previous story, Merlin accidentally attacked Ronan and threw him against the wall, mistaking him for Ramsay

[3] Stated by Gaius earlier than morning, at the beginning of the chapter.

**Confused? Questions or comments? Requests? Leave a review!**


	3. Chapter 3

*********IMPORTANT! There was one small detail in my previous story I had to go back and change, which was Ramsay's age when he tortured his first victim. I have now made him 13 (instead of 16) when he did this.**

**A/N Thought I'd put a clarifying note about ages in my story, just in case people were curious. I kind of made these up, but estimated based on the show. REMINDER: I started the story at Season 3.**

**Arthur = 20 **_(I'm assuming he was 17 in Season 1)_

**Merlin = 19 **_(I'm assuming he was 16 in Season 1)_

**Morgana = 19**

**Mordred = 17**

**Ramsay = spoilers/it's complicated, will reveal later**

**Ronan/Riona = spoilers/it's complicated, will reveal later**

* * *

Ronan panted heavily and limped forward, feeling distantly that something was painful. The calf wound, now wrapped with some torn pieces of shirt, had stopped gushing blood, but continued to drip. Up ahead, lights twinkled cheerily from Camelot's citadel. The sky overhead was dark now, and the stars had come out.

_Please, give me strength, to make it back._

* * *

Morgana stood, blocking the doorway to the Mordred's chambers. "If you don't let me perform the healing spell, Mordred," she drew in a breath shakily, struggling to keep her tears at bay, "Then don't come back to this castle. I will tell Morgause that I don't want you aligned with us."

Mordred observed Morgana impassively, weighing her words carefully. "Ok."

"No you don't understand, I'm serious Mord-…wait, what?" Morgana wasn't expecting such peaceful obedience. "Oh, um, ok, well, let's go sit down inside. I have everything prepared." Morgana felt apprehensive as Mordred stepped towards her, but he opened his arms and wrapped her in a warm embrace.

"You're the only person in the world who still cares for me."

In that moment, Morgana could no longer hold back, overwhelmed by a mixture of shock, confusion, relief, and heartache. She cried into Mordred's shirt, letting herself be comforted by his arms around her. And so the two of them stood together in the hallway for awhile, not saying anything, yet closer than they had felt in a long time.

* * *

"What is it?" Gaius's voice floated through the locked door.

"It's me, Merlin, can I come in?" Merlin didn't hear anything for awhile, and was about to knock again when the door cracked open just a sliver.

"I'm actually quite busy at the moment, Merlin. Can this wait?"

Merlin felt a twinge of annoyance, "No, it can't wait, actually. Gaius, there is a small blood trail leading up to your door, and I distinctly saw Ronan limping into the castle towards your chambers." Gaius stepped outside and closed the door behind him. Merlin went on, still feeling heated, "And since when did you begin keeping secrets from me? I've gone to the ends of the world for you, faced terrible foes to save your life…I'd think that at least merits me some trust, if my years of friendship and loyalty haven't earned it."

"I'm not saying you're untrustworthy Merlin. I'm sorry if I've offended," Gaius's tight-lipped expression fell, "It's just that, Ronan is very private and still harbors some anxiety in your presence."

"Oh…" Merlin scratched his head, feeling guilty, "You-you told him I was sorry right? [1] I've just been so busy lately I haven't had a chance to properly sit down with him…and apologize, I suppose."

"No, no, that's absolutely fine. You have a whole land of magic-users to re-integrate into the kingdom, that's not going to happen overnight," Gaius reassured, "Tell you what, I could use some help actually, with Ronan's injury. Why don't you come in? Just don't do ANYTHING I don't instruct you to do. And stay by the table closest to the door."

Merlin nodded enthusiastically, "Great! Sure, whatever I can do to help. I'm glad to be of service."

As Gaius led them inside, Merlin heard strained whimpers coming from behind a wooden folding screen with fabric draped around it.

"Gaius? Is that you?"

Merlin was surprised. Ronan's voice sounded strangely high-pitched, and much younger. Ronan didn't normally talk much, and when he did he said very little very quietly—perhaps it wasn't such a surprise that his actual voice was different from what Merlin was used to.

"Yes, it's me, dear," Gaius said soothingly, "I've let Merlin in to help with some healing enchantments, because I'm afraid the herbs alone won't be sufficient to heal up your wounds." Gaius put a bowl of herbs in Merlin's hands and pointed at the open page in a book of enchantments on the table, "Don't worry, he'll be standing far in the corner, by the door."

"Wow, you've never called _me _dear," Merlin joked to Gaius, then spoke across the room, "Don't worry Ronan, I'm the least threatening person you'll ever meet, really. Just ask Arthur. And Gwaine's told me about your impressive swordsmanship! You could probably actually beat me up."

Ronan's breathing was becoming loud and labored. Gaius had gone over to the other side of the screen and returned with an alarming amount of bloody gauze bandages. "Did you do the healing spell?" he asked anxiously.

Merlin waved his hands over the herbs, _Gehælednesum _[2], then handed them over. "Do you want me to make more? I saw which herbs you put in the bowl."

Before Gaius could respond, Ronan spoke from the other side of the screen, "Merlin? C-can you use magic to clean up the blood trail in the hallway? Before anyone notices?"

Merlin looked at Gaius who seemed perplexed as well, "Ronan, have you told Gaius what happened to you?" Merlin saw Gaius shake his head, "I understand if you're uncomfortable telling me…"

"Just a small accident. Won't happen again, sir."

Merlin and Gaius exchanged uncomfortable looks. "Alright Ronan, I'll go clean up. Check on you in the morning, ok? And you don't have to call me sir."

Gaius went back around the screen and got to work. Just as Merlin was about to step through the door, Ronan's voice spoke up again, sounding a bit stronger. "You really think I could beat you up?"

Merlin turned back around, "Well, I do have magic, you know. Kind of gives me an unfair advantage."

"Not such a non-threatening person then, are you?"

Merlin paused, "Hmmm, I suppose you have a point. Tell you what though, after you recover, I'll let you have a free punch. That should make things even between us, right?"

"It's a start."

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

Merlin sat at the table in his room, drinking elderflower tea. George was seated, unhappily, across from Merlin, rather than standing by his side, serving the tea.

_I want someone to just sit and drink tea with me, George, can you do that?_

"Sire, I must congratulate you on your much-improved health!" George noted, "Your color is better, you've put on a bit of weight, and these new robes are very becoming."

Merlin didn't say anything—he was busy staring off into space, thinking about the green amulet in his drawers. It had intricate Druid symbols carved on it and amber settings that framed a green gemstone—no doubt a magical item, potentially with protective powers. No one had noticed him wearing it in the scramble of rescuing him, but after returning to Camelot he discussed it at length with Gaius. Thinking about discussing things with Gaius however, brought a pang of unhappiness to his heart.

_He never used to keep secrets from me…he used to keep them _for_ me._

"George," Merlin said suddenly. "Tomorrow morning, or tonight if you prefer, I need you to go polish the armor and prepare the weapons and what not for the knights' training."

"But that's the squire's job, my lord, or…uh, before that it was the manservant's job."

"Well aren't you my manservant?"

"I…am…"

"Well it would be of a great service to me, if you could do those things, tomorrow, instead of the squire."

"Of course, my lord. Then it shall be done."

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

"Talk to me, who hurt you? Is Ramsay not dead?" Gaius coaxed. "Riona?"

"Don't call me that! ...Riona died…a long time ago."

Gaius sighed, "You should tell Arthur and Merlin who you are, they are trustworthy and honorable people, they wouldn't cast you out because of your background."

"My brother tortured and terrorized Merlin to the brink of human endurance, and Arthur loves Merlin more than anything in the world…do you really think they won't hold it against me that Ramsay is my family?"

"Is Ramsay not dead?" No answer. "Riona?" Quiet sniffling.

"I lost the goblet, I'm sorry Gaius. I didn't even finish the enchantment, so my eyes are still green." Riona took a shuddering breath, "Ramsay has found a way to survive in another person's body, so he looks different now. I believe the warlock whose body he's occupying has begun melding souls with him. I waited too long to enchant my eyes this time, it must have been how he found me. But I thought he was dead."

"That's alright, child, we can rectify that. You're alive and here, that's all that matters right now. The goblet just makes the enchantment stronger, we can make do without."

"I don't have enough magical energy tonight."

"I'll perform the spell."

"But, do you have enough magic?"

"I may be getting on in my years, but I'm not a completely useless old man yet," Gaius helped Riona to a sitting position, "I let your parents down all those years ago. I didn't have enough medical knowledge then to be the one to save you…but I have a chance to make up for that now."

"I wish I wasn't saved," Riona said sullenly, "I wish I had just died like I was supposed to."

"Don't you ever say that!" Gaius gripped her shoulders tightly, "Don't say that," he pulled her in and hugged her tightly. Then with one free hand he grabbed a bowl of water and chanted a couple of times, _Áhellaþ þá éaggebyrda _[3]. Holding it up, "Here drink this, and then get some rest. We'll figure things out tomorrow."

Riona grimaced as she shifted a bit, and then grabbed the bowl, "I thought he was dead…"

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

Later that night, Rion's dreams were vivid and fitful, flitting between random grotesque images and memories.

_6-year-old Riona sat perched on the fence, watching as her father hammered away at a sword he was making. The red-hot iron spewed out dozens of sparks each time it was hit. 9-year-old Ramsay came up behind her._

_"__Hi Rammy!"_

_Ramsay didn't say anything, but smiled. _

_"__Arry, come in for a moment!" their mother called to their father from the kitchen._

_"__You keep distracting me from my work, at this rate King Alined's going to have me dismissed before I even begin my new job for the Royal Armory!" _

_Ramsay's eyes followed their father as he stepped away. Once he was out of sight, Ramsay walked over to the table and examined the various tools laid out, some which were still burning hot. "Father'll have to pack all of these up, now that we're moving."_

_"__Are we going to live in a castle?" Riona swung her legs back and forth._

_"__What did you say Riona? I can't hear you," Ramsay had circled around to the other side of the table._

_"__I said, are we going to live a castle?" Riona shouted._

_"__Still can't hear you, run along over here." Ramsay watched with hawk-like eyes as Riona jumped down and began skipping over. At exactly the right moment, he pushed the table over so that it, along with all the metal tools on it, fell over onto his sister. Riona managed to turn her head and look at her brother for an instant—their brilliant green eyes locked on each other's._

_"__AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" _

Riona jerked awake to the sound of loud rapping at the door. It was light out now; she was still lying on the medical cot and could see Gaius curled up in his bed not far away. "Gaius!" but it seemed the old physician was exhausted, and didn't stir.

_Knock-knock-knock-knock. Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock!_

The person at the door was getting more insistent. Struggling off the cot, Riona hobbled over. She took a quick glance in the facewash basin before opening the door—a pair of light brown eyes stared back at her.

"Package for Ronan?" a harried-looking servant held out a burlap sack. "I'm in a bit of a rush!"

Riona took the sack wordlessly, as the servant dashed off. Hands trembling, she opened the drawstring and looked inside. It was Gaius's gold-gilded goblet with a note attached:

_Looks like you dropped this._

* * *

Morgana stumbled into the castle kitchens, face pale and covered in a sheen of sweat. "Water," she croaked. The scullery maids scampered away, alarmed.

The cook shook his head resignedly and ladled out some hot soup. "Go sit down o'er there, by the stools."

Morgana practically collapsed on the short wooden bench. A little dirt-stricken girl with no shoes carried the bowl over, "Are you okay? My lady?"

"I'm alright, thank you," Morgana took the bowl with trembling hands and sipped at the soup, but had to put it down again as she coughed. The little girl rubbed her back.

"My lady, you're ice-cold!"

"Healing sessions with Mordred take much energy..."

"Shall I get the Lady Morgause?"

"No!" Morgana shook her head emphatically, "I'm alright, I'm ok. I'm feeling beter already." Color was slowly returning to her cheeks as she sipped at the soup more. "Kyrie, can you go grab Petyr for me?"

The little girl nodded and padded off. A few minutes later an older-looking gentlemen walked into the kitchens, "My lady! What are you doing in here? If you wanted to eat something the maids could have brought it for you."

"I just needed some water." Morgana smiled weakly, "Petyr, you and your family have tended to this castle since before Cenred's time. You know its walls and contents better than anyone."

"That is correct my lady, my family is among the oldest of this citadel's dwellers."

Morgana laid the soup bowl down on the table, hand tremors noticeably decreased. "Mordred came to you the other day, asking about some of dungeons on the lower levels, ones that have been out of use for many years, is that correct?"

Petyr looked uncomfortable, "What is it you wish to ask, my lady?"

"In one of the dungeons, he removed a weapon, a heavy iron ball connected by a chain to a wooden stick."

"Ah, yes, the mace."

"But not just any mace, a magical one, correct?"

Petyr gazed at Morgana skeptically, "Did Mordred tell you this?"

Morgana thought back to her healing session with Mordred—he did tell her this, in a way, just involuntarily. It was a memory that accidentally slipped past when her soul was mending his. In fact, not only did she glimpse some of his recent memories, she was able to visualize some his future plans—using the mace, screaming out an enchantment, watching as the head of a dragon burst out of the iron ball and rushed towards Merlin. "I need you to give me all the information you have on this magical mace—any scrolls or documents pertaining to it, please have them brought to my chambers."

"As you wish, my lady."

* * *

Riona winced as she minced gingerly towards the armory. She was already behind on polishing the armor, and was definitely going to be late setting up the training field. Banging the door open she was met with a surprise, "George?!"

"Ah, Ronan, you're late today. My lord Merlin it seems, even has prophetic powers."

"What? What in the world are you talking about? And why are you polishing my armor?"

"This, young man, is King Arthur's armor, which is your responsibility to polish. I however, am polishing it because my master asked me to."

"Merlin asked you to polish my armor? I mean-" Riona corrected herself before George could again, "King Arthur's armor?"

"Indeed, he did. He also asked me to set up the training field, which I have done, but I suggest you hurry on over, so that you may still have the semblance of being on time before the knights arrive."

"Th-thank you, George." Riona spun around and rushed out the door, forgetting about her injury, "Ow!"

"Is something the matter with your leg?" George looked up from his work only to see the door swinging back and forth, having been bumped by Riona on her way out to the fields.

The grass was particularly green under the noonday sun. Many of the knights were already standing around, taking large swigs of water from their skins—having spent the night engaging in Gwaine's drunken debauchery, they needed lots of hydration. The area where they stood was somewhat muddy and trampled from spillage.

"There's my boy Ronan!" Gwaine called out. "He's an up and comer."

Riona managed a small smile, glancing around nervously to check that the sparring swords were laid out, the archery targets set up, and the shields propped up against the wall. She was surprised to see that Merlin was also present, standing off the side talking with Arthur. This made her nervous, _Are they talking about me?_

In actuality, they were discussing plans for their tour of the kingdom's Druid camps. "To add an extra layer of security, I decided we should leave a day earlier than what we announced to court," Arthur was relaying to Merlin, "I feel like I can never be too careful these days, even with my own court, you know?"

"I completely agree. And I must say, your shrewdness is...well, I'm really impressed Arthur. You've grown."

"Merlin, are you patronizing me?"

"What? Me? Noooo," Merlin laughed as Arthur gave him a light shove. Glancing over he saw Ronan watching them, and excused himself from Arthur. Walking over, he tried to engage a conversation, "How are you doing today Ronan?"

"Fine."

"You seem alright, that's good! Gaius is an amazing physician."

"Yes."

These terse, clipped responses were not conducive to deeper conversation, Merlin decided. "You're walking with a bit of limp there," still nothing, "Listen uh, Ronan, I know we may have gotten off to a bad start, and I'm very very sorry about that. I was in a bad way, you know? But I hope you can give me another chance, for us to perhaps be friends?" Merlin let that hang in the air for a moment, "And just so you know, I've had a lot of experience with keeping secrets and having to suffer through pain without anyone knowing. It's very isolating. Looking back, I sometimes wish I had just talked to someone about it." Merlin chuckled a bit at this, thinking of Arthur's whining earlier, _If instead of deceiving your master, you had just come out in the open about things, a lot of bad situations might have been averted._

Riona stopped in her tracks, and turned around suddenly. "I'm sorry for what Ramsay did to you. He's an abomination." As she walked off, Merlin didn't follow, standing there with his head tilted to the side, curiously observing the squire he had come to know as Ronan. A squire who was shrouded in mystery, and whose eyes had definitely turned green for an instant.

* * *

[1] In the previous story, Merlin accidentally attacked Ronan and threw him against the wall, mistaking him for Ramsay

[2] Heal

[3] Conceal the eyes


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Things are moving a bit slower than I'd hoped, but I'm trying to make sure I set things up right so just bear with me! The action should really pick up next chapter.**

"Your green amulet," Mordred fingered the nape pf Morgana's neck, "It's gone." The two of them were lying on the bed after another healing session—Morgana was exhausted, but her pale cheeks reddened at Mordred's observation.

"Oh yes, um, I believe I dropped it somewhere—I'm incredibly clumsy—probably when I was…"

"When you were saving Merlin." Mordred's voice wasn't overtly upset or accusatory, simply neutral.

Morgana thought of Merlin on the day that they stormed Camelot, standing in the doorway of court, eyes blazing, hair windswept, expression fierce…power emanating from every inch of his body, "What if Emrys kills you?"

"He won't."

Morgana didn't say anything, but fiddled with Mordred's green amulet, dragging her fingers along the Druid symbols. "What if we just ran away? You know, eloped? Forgot about all this." Morgana closed her eyes and breathed in, smiling a bit as she envisioned her fantasy, "We could go far, far away, beyond the Northern Plains, ride our horses out there together. We could practice and develop our magic together, rediscover the secrets of the Old Religion, perhaps even create new enchantments! We wouldn't answer to anyone."

Mordred's expression softened, and for a moment his features seemed young again. "Maybe one day." He felt Morgana's body tense up against his, then heard the soft pitter patter of a tears dropping against the bedsheets.

* * *

"Arthur! My boy, where could you be going at this late hour?" Agravaine was so caught off guard at running into Arthur near the stables that he forgot to consider explaining his own reasons for being there at a peculiar hour.

"Uncle!" Arthur seemed equally surprised. He stumbled forward a couple steps as Merlin, who had been following close-behind, bumped into him, "Ow, Merlin!"

"What? Why'd you stop?" Merlin was decked in a purple tunic shirt with a red neckerchief, and brown walking boots—no need for royal purple robes when he was traveling, he was much more comfortable in low-profile garb. "Oh, Lord Agravaine, hello." Merlin blinked and forced down the urge to run. He had not forgotten Agravaine's role in helping Uther place him at the mercy of Halig, who then placed him in the hands of Ramsay [1].

Agravaine raised an eyebrow and didn't respond, but bowed his head ever so slightly. "I was heading to the kitchens, to get some tea for Old King Uther."

At the mention of his vegetative father, Arthur's suspicious thoughts were quelled, "Ah, I see. My father is lucky to have you here, taking care of him. Oy! Careful!" At that moment Ronan whizzed past, carrying two saddles, nearly dropping one on Arthur's foot. Merlin went off to help, but kept one ear trained on the conversation behind him. "Pardon my squire, uncle. He's helping me prepare the horses. I decided to depart Camelot early this morning, rather than tomorrow."

Agravaine's mouth dropped open slightly, "You-you, but-"

Arthur put his hand up, "Please forgive me for not telling you Uncle, I know you're family and I meant no offense. But I'm playing this one close to the chest."

Agravaine swallowed, "That is very wise of you." In the dim lighting, it was hard to discern his pale and sweaty features. He did however, dab his forehead with his robe, "I'll be getting that tea now. And do be careful, Arthur."

Arthur gave a curt nod and parted ways with his uncle, walking forward to grab a burlap sack, then heading back towards Merlin, whose lips were pursed, "Are you sure it was a good idea to tell him that?"

"He's my uncle," Arthur justified. "And besides, he already saw us. What am I going to say? I'm going hunting in the wee hours of the morning? The day before I leave?"

Merlin declined to respond, and watched as Ronan expertly tied the packs to the horse then double checked the straps on the saddle. The boy was obviously hiding a limp, which was probably painful, but he didn't make a peep. "It's just that he may accidentally mention it to someone, who may then mention it to someone else, and so on and so forth."

Ronan gave the reins to Arthur and Merlin, and then started following along as they started walking towards the gates. Arthur was looking intently at Merlin's outfit, "No armor? Could be dangerous. My father hasn't exactly made many friends with the Druids of the years, and from what you've told me, neither have you."

Merlin shrugged, "Regular weapons can't get to me, and armor won't protect me against the weapons that can."

"…King Arthur?"

They turned around, both a bit stunned—Arthur couldn't quite recall if he'd ever even been addressed by his reticent squire before, "Uh, yes Ronan, what is it?"

"Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you?" Ronan was looking at the ground, shuffling his weight back and forth between either foot.

Arthur smiled a little, "I'm giving you the month off, and you're complaining? You see Merlin? Other people think it's an _honor_ to serve me."

Merlin gave him a skeptical look, then smirked. In truth, he was the one who had suggested to Arthur that they leave Ronan at home. Gwaine had taken a liking to the boy and didn't have a squire anyway. Merlin's main reason however, was that he knew Ronan had an injury, and probably shouldn't be traipsing about the countryside. Regarding the explanation of the injury, Merlin had sat Ronan down in his chambers, and ask him in all seriousness, to come forward about anything that might threaten the kingdom's safety. But Merlin was no hard-hearted person, and when Ronan started sniffling, on the verge of tears, he couldn't press further.

_It was just an older boy, he was bullying me. I don't want to talk about it._

That was enough for Merlin. He figured the situation might not be more serious than that (and he didn't want to be responsible for making someone cry!). But a small nagging voice in the back of his mind insisted otherwise.

* * *

Hearing Mordred's footsteps outside the door, Morgana quickly folded up the parchment in her hands and shoved it in her cloak pocket. Agravaine was urgently relaying that Arthur had left Camelot a day early. She received his note a couple days ago, not long before they set out from Cenred's castle, and had worked out a plan in the meantime. Now her and Mordred were on the road—it was the fourth day, and they'd stopped to camp out in an abandoned hovel. Mordred had left early in the morning without a word, and was only just returning at this late hour.

"I've practiced the enchantment a hundred times now. I could do it in my sleep," he was smiling excitedly, "I'll be ready for Emrys when we cross paths on the bridge tomorrow."

Morgana knew that by the time they reached the bridge, Merlin and Arthur would have already passed it. This made what she was going to do easier. "Mordred?"

He didn't seem to hear her; he was busy tearing off a piece of bread from the table. Morgana wasn't sure if the healing sessions had had much of an effect, but one thing was for sure, Mordred was still hell-bent on capturing Merlin. "Based on Ramsay's memories, Emrys's body contains an unparalleled power source. With him under my control, I'll be undefeatable. No one will be able to hurt me. Ever again."

Morgana spooned some stew into a bowl and walked over to the table, setting it down in front of Mordred. Sitting down next to him, she put her hand on his, "I'm happy for you."

Mordred stopped eating and turned to look at her, "Morgana your hands are ice-cold. Shouldn't you be recovered by now? We finished the healing sessions weeks ago."

Morgana laid her head on Mordred's shoulder, "Don't go to the bridge tomorrow. Let's ride to the Northern Plains together. You can complete your healing there. We'll be happy." Morgana started crying.

Mordred pulled her in for a hug, "Emrys's power will heal me well enough. If the Northern Plains is where you want to go, we can do that anytime! I'll go with you after we complete this mission."

Morgana cried harder, "It has to be tonight, Mordred."

"You're not making any sense Morgana," Mordred ran his fingers through Morgana's hair, "You shouldn't have spent so much energy on the healing sessions."

Morgana's breathing slowly calmed, and her shaking diminished, "You're right, my love." She lifted her face from his shoulder and looked up at him, "I think I should rest. Would you be angry with me if I didn't go with you to the bridge tomorrow?"

"Of course not! You just stay here and rest. Gather up your energy. When I'm done tomorrow we'll go back to Cenred's castle and I'll heal up a bit. Then we can plan for a trip to the Northern Plains."

Morgana smiled, and got up to go to bed. Staring out through the small window, she took one last glance at the stars and moon, before closing her eyes.

* * *

Gaius placed his hand reassuringly on Riona's shoulder. They were sitting at his table waiting for Gwaine and Lancelot to come by. Gaius had asked them to come after practice. "It'll be fine, Riona."

"Ronan," Riona corrected just as the door swung open. Gwaine and Lancelot sauntered in, Gwaine peered around looking for signs of Merlin.

"Have you guys seen Merlin at all today?"

Riona looked hesitantly at Gaius, who nodded, "Gwaine…Merlin's not in Camelot anymore."

Gwaine and Lancelot both tensed, peering cautiously at Riona. "What are you saying Ronan?" Lancelot asked.

"Well, Arthur decided to leave today, instead of tomorrow. He wanted to keep it a secret in case there were any leaks inside Camelot. But…but I'm worried about his safety. I think-I think we should all go with him."

"Ronan, Camelot can't be left defenseless. It's important that Camelot's knights are here to protect her, _especially_ when the king's gone," Lancelot explained.

"Yeah," Gwaine chimed in, "And princess can handle himself. Plus he's got Merlin there to protect him. Man, those two sneaky little-"

"I wouldn't finish that sentence," Gaius said with his eyes twinkling, "Whatever you have to say likely borders on treasonous name-calling, Sir Gwaine."

Lancelot chuckled, "Well you can't blame them. It was a smart move."

"I know it's important to protect Camelot," Riona said, "But isn't it more important to protect the king? I think he may be in danger. As well as Merlin."

Gwaine's face became serious, "Ronan, did you hear of anything that we should know?"

Riona looked to Gauis, then back to Gwaine and Lancelot, "I think I saw a man who looked like Ramsay the other day."

"That's not possible Ronan, we found Ramsay's body in pieces," Lancelot reminded.

"But maybe he has some family or what not, Camelot doesn't know much about his background," Riona argued. She tried not to balk under pressure as the two knights observed her carefully, mulling over the situation. "I just have a bad feeling, and feel that they should have more protection."

"Merlin used to have those a lot: funny feelings," Gwaine noted.

"Gaius, do you concur? Is this why you called us to your chambers?" Lancelot asked.

Gaius nodded, "It couldn't hurt for you to catch up with them at the first Druid camp, which won't be far from Camelot."

Lancelot ran his fingers through his hair, thinking, "Ok but do something for me Gaius, while we're away, please gather some more information on Ramsay's family and origins. Try to send it to us by raven as soon as possible." Gaius bowed his head in assent, keenly aware that Riona was gawking at him with a petrified expression.

"Since the first camp isn't far from Camelot, we may as well bring Percival, Elyan, and Leon," Gwaine suggested. While he and Lancelot began to discuss the specifics, Riona walked over to the stairs right beneath her room and grabbed her sword [2], the one she had been carrying when Gwaine and Arthur had first found her—it was castle-forged steel, and had been a gift from her father.

"You'll need me to lead the way."

* * *

When Morded woke up the next morning, Morgana was still sound asleep. He got up quietly from the bed and tried not to wake her. Today was the day. He was going to take Emrys captive. Grabbing his special mace, he walked out of the hut.

The bridge was about half a day's walk from the hovel, and technically Mordred could have used magic to transport himself there quicker, but he didn't want to waste any energy. Besides, according to his calculations, Merlin and Arthur shouldn't be arriving until early evening. The day was still young and the sun just rising above the tree tops. A few odd clouds rolled in, dotting the blue skies and threatening rain later in the day.

Mordred looked down and observed the mace he was holding—it was a powerful magical tool, but also used up lots of energy from the wielder. He had happened upon it quite by accident, when he was setting up the dungeon that would contain Merlin. According to Petyr, Cenred's predecessor had captured an aggressive warlord at some point in the past. The mace was his most prized possession—it was an effective and well-designed piece of weaponry, yet he did not know of its true powers. The real power of the mace lay in its versatility, as an extension of a sorcerer's powers. Mordred practiced a couple of different spells using it, but focused on one that incurred little physical damage to the receiver yet rendered them weak (and riddled with pain). It was particularly tricky, and a small lapse in concentration could be enough to alter the spell into a deadly one. Mordred did add few purposeful alterations of his own to the spell. For example, when the visage of the dragon head passed through the recipient's chest, that person would feel that they were simultaneously punched in the stomach and the chest. Additionally, it would seek out any magic in a person's body and freeze it, making it inaccessible to that person. Mordred smiled to himself, proud of these achievements. Perhaps taking a sabbatical to the Northern Plains sometime to improve his magic and create new enchantments would be a useful venture indeed. _That'd make Morgana happy, maybe she'd stop moping._

When Mordred reached the bridge he knew there was still time to wait. So he found a shady alcove to hide in and sat down to build up his magical energy through meditation.

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

Mordred watched a lone figure approach the other side of the bridge, casting long shadows against the ground. It definitely looked like Merlin, in his signature manservant outfit, hair tousled, walking with a bumbling, gangly gait. Standing up, he walked to the bridge.

Merlin seemed startled, "Mordred?" He squinted and held his hand to his forehead, trying to shield his eyes from the sun, "Why are you here?"

"Where's Arthur?"

"Arthur's half a day behind me, with the knights of Camelot. I came ahead to scout."

Mordred sneered, "It seems the gods have favored me on this glorious day." He looked at Merlin, still standing there awkwardly, giving him what appeared to be a sad look. "I'm sorry to have to do this Emrys, but I've lived a cruel, hard life. I won't be a victim any longer. I won't let anyone have the power to hurt me again!" As he finished his last sentence, Mordred swung the mace above his head and flung it towards Merlin. As he chanted an incantation his eyes glowed gold and a flaming dragon's head appeared at the front of the mace, galloping forward.

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut and braced for impact. But in the split second before it happened, Mordred saw his eyes pop wide open. "NOOOO!" In that moment, Mordred realized what was going on and tried to withdraw his mace, but it was too late.

Mordred saw the dragon blow through Merlin's chest, creating a resounding _BOOM_ sound as it exited. The image of Merlin flickered and another person's appearance shimmered into view. Long locks of flowy black hair billowed in the wind, blank green eyes stared back at him—it was Morgana. Teetering for a couple moments, she gripped onto the bridge's handrails as a trickle of blood dribbled down the corner of her mouth. She tried to walk forward but coughed, sputtering out droplets of blood, then collapsed.

Mordred rushed forward, just barely managing to catch her in his arms before she hit the ground. Morgana's eyes were barely open, "You've become…so much stronger…than I expected."

Mordred sat on the ground, holding Morgana, "What have you done?"

"You don't have, the power necessary, to capture Emrys, Mordred. He would have killed you, even with this weapon at your disposal." Morgana knew Merlin was too gentle-hearted to kill anyone in cold blood, but if that person were threatening Arthur's life, or the safety of Camelot, Merlin could do what was necessary [3]. Morgana knew this painfully well, and even as her body was racked with waves of electric pain, she felt her chest tighten as she remembered Merlin holding her in his arms, teary-eyed and upset at having poisoned her.

Mordred felt Morgana's breathing become shallower, "What's wrong with you? My enchantment wasn't supposed to kill you." But even as he said this, he knew that in the minute before the mace hit her, he had a lapse in concentration, when he realized it wasn't Merlin. "You didn't have to do this."

Morgana smiled weakly, "I couldn't let you…go to your death."

"HAVE YOU SO LITTLE FAITH IN ME?" Mordred's shouted, voice thick with emotion. "I COULD HAVE DONE IT. You just wanted to protect your precious Merlin." His hands trembled noticeably, his breath raggedy. Using the mace had been taxing by itself, but then also trying to back out of the enchantment...it just sent all his magical energy into upheaval; his systems were now crashing. Mordred's well-trained ears could perceive clanging footsteps drawing near. It was the Camelot knights. "Did you betray me Morgana? Are you consigning me to Camelot's prisons?!" Mordred shook Morgana, but she had lost consciousness by this point. A piece of parchment fell out of her cloak, and Mordred picked it up.

_Dearest Morgana, Arthur has decided to leave a day early. The schedule I gave you is now off by a day. I only just found out and apologize for the delay._

Morgana curled his hand into a fist, slowly crumpling up the paper. Throwing his head back he roared into the sky, black fumes beginning to radiate from his body [4]. Morgana opened her eyes again, dimly perceiving that Mordred was screaming. Mordred held her close against his chest, and whispered into her ear, "I thought you loved me, Morgana, I though you said you wouldn't let anything bad happen to me. You've disappointed me, but I won't let you ruin everything."

* * *

"Hey! Stop it, right there!" Gwaine rushed forward. A dark, smoky figure enveloped in black steam seemed to seize up momentarily, then sped away. Gwaine started to give chase, but was held back by Lancelot.

"Look, someone's been injured, they're lying on the ground!"

"I don't believe it!" Leon exclaimed. "It's the Lady Morgana!"

* * *

[1] In the last story, Agravaine convinced Uther to send Merlin away to be tortured for an oath of fealty. He arranged for Halig to transport Merlin to King Alined's supposed extractor, Ramsay. It was later revealed that Ramsay no longer worked for Alined.

[2] When Gwaine and Arthur found Ronan in the streets, he was wearing makeshift armor and had a sword hanging at his waist. Gwaine noted that it was made of castle-forged steel.

[3] Season 2 Episode 12: The Fires of Idirsholas

[4] Black steam rose from Ramsay's body when Mordred killed him.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Ahhhhhh! I'm so sorry for the late update. It's just that school's started and I've become crazy busy. I will try try try to get the next chapter out much quicker, but it may be shorter. I hope the content is good though, and makes up in part for the lateness!**

The knights rushed forward onto the bridge. Morgana was dressed in Merlin's old servant clothing. Leon dropped to his knees and shifted her body onto his lap. As a member of Camelot's old guard, Leon still harbored strong ties to Uther, and with it an honor-bound sense of duty towards Uther's beloved ward (or rather, his daughter). Morgana had grown up in court, and Leon remembered her younger days—a vibrant, passionate girl, full of hope. In the present day, that same girl lay crumpled in a heap, bruised and broken, blood bubbling out of her mouth.

"Let my death be enough…" her eyes were closed and her voice breathy and faint.

"Can I take a look?" Ronan stepped forward and brushed aside the neckerchief, revealing the tattered tunic underneath—a large, round, ashy imprint was left on her chest from where the dragon head had pounded through. "She needs to be brought to the Lake of Avalon. Only the Sidhe [1] can save her."

"I can take her," Leon offered. "You all should go ahead and find King Arthur. This incident bodes ill for the King's travels."

"Are you sure?" Lancelot was concerned, "Maybe someone should go with you."

"Arthur is the priority," Leon insisted, "But it is also my duty to Morgana—" he had to pause a moment to regain composure, as the image of dark magic ripping through Morgana's body moments ago replayed in his head. They had been too far away at the time to realize who it was. "It is also my duty to try and save the Lady Morgana. I know the way to Avalon and I shall bring her there directly."

"Here," Gwaine tossed a small flask to Leon, "Show this to Greta at the inn when you reach the next town, tell her that Gwaine asked her to give you the fastest available horse."

Leon caught the flask and nodded. He gathered Morgana in his arms and stood up, "Protect the king."

* * *

_Let my death be enough, Mordred. Let it be enough. _

Mordred's mind was screaming. His emotions were a swirling mess—drowning in anger and hatred and darkness. "Never!" he shouted, "It will never be enough!" Black fumes enveloped his entire body, obscuring his features and vision; the whole visage was representative of his internal state as well. The black smoke was a manifestation of Mordred's magic, which was now like a beast been released from its cage, and had taken on a mind of its own.

_Let my death be enough._

Mordred sped through the air with magical speed, racing towards Arthur and Merlin. It drained his power, but he was blind with fury and not thinking straight. All he wanted to do was react. Morgana thought her death might serve to pacify his dark urges, reawaken his old self, but her deception only fueled his evolution in the opposite direction. A violent spark had been set off within him, a lust for blood.

_Death._

By nightfall, Mordred knew he was close to Merlin and Arthur, he could almost hear their beating hearts. But he could not strike right then—all the rapid travel had drained his energy. Even with a full day of careful meditation, he would no longer be at full capacity like before—he'd used up too much magic attacking Morgana with the mace. But he wasn't giving up now, not when he was so close. As luck would have it, Arthur and Merlin were in the midst of peace talks and would stay at their present location for a couple of days. Mordred overheard this from Druids communicating nearby with mental speech. This would give him more time to recover some of his magic. Perhaps the gods were still good to him.

* * *

"We are honored to pledge our fealty to you, King Arthur. If you are the ruler that Emrys has chosen, then we must do everything in our power to help you bring about the golden age of Camelot!" The Druid elder, one of the few remaining in this world, grasped Arthur's hand and shook it vigorously.

Merlin couldn't help snorting as he held back his laughter, Arthur just looked too ridiculous—a green moss blanket had been draped around his shoulders and a crown with humongous antlers sticking out the sides was placed on his head. "Yes," Arthur tried to maintain a stoic expression, "Emrys and I appreciate your loyalty."

"Well we should be on our way, chosen one," Merlin teased, nudging Arthur with his elbow.

Arthur laughed and clapped his hand on Merlin's shoulder, hard, "You are so dead," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth so that only Merlin could hear.

"Ow," Merlin rubbed his shoulder and moved the arm around, shaking it off. Still grinning at Arthur's awkwardness, he walked over to the horses, which were laden with gifts. They'd reached the first Druid camp without incident and encountered a very receptive group. This particular faction believed strongly in the prophecies regarding Emrys and King Arthur, making it very easy to make peace with them. Since this was Arthur's first real interaction with Druids (well, first real peaceful interaction), Merlin recommended they stay a couple extra days to interact with these friendly ones—Arthur would need the practice for later, more challenging groups.

Now it was the morning of their departure, and the Druid elder was bidding them goodbye, all the while showering them with gifts: bunches of local herbs and fruits, handmade crafts and pendants, pottery and baskets. Merlin asked that most of them be sent back to Camelot, keeping only the things they might use on the journey ahead. He and Arthur agreed that increasing Druid presence and traffic on the main roads was also an important step in rebuilding relations. Arthur handed the Druid elder a scroll with his official seal on it, to present at Camelot's city gates, then finally began making his way over to Merlin.

"Need help getting on the horse?" Merlin asked.

"Do I look like I need help?" Arthur parted open the moss blanket and held it off to one side as he awkwardly hoisted himself up onto the horse, trying not to get entangled. Despite his best efforts, parts of the cape somehow got stuck on his antlers.

While Arthur fiddled around and readjusted his positioning, Merlin took one last look at the Druid elder, _Thank you_.

_Thank YOU, Emrys._

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

"You did well," Merlin complimented as their horses trotted along.

"Of course," Arthur replied, "I've been trained in diplomacy and royal communications since I was a child. I know how to talk to people."

Merlin opened his mouth to speak but stopped as he caught sight of Arthur's expression. Grinning mischievously, he just couldn't help himself, "Except in the mornings, especially when you've not had your breakfast [2]. Or when you've not had any meat in awhile—really just whenever you're hungry in general. Or when you are trying to talk to a girl you like, or talk a girl about your feelings, or talk to anyone about your feelings—ow " Merlin tried to steer his horse away as Arthur smacked him with his glove, but was too late. "Is that what you call royal communication?!"

Arthur was about to retort when the trees suddenly started swaying, as if being blown by some imaginary wind. "Do you feel that?"

Merlin nodded. Arthur had now become much more aware of the supernatural abnormalities that Merlin was always attuned to, ever since a new sector of knowledge had been unlocked and accepted in his mind. "Something's not right," Merlin closed his eyes and cast a protective shielding charm over him and Arthur.

Arthur's vision became tinted as a clear blue dome formed around him and Merlin. He noticed some sort of black condensation forming on the leaves, slipping off as smaller drops combined to form larger drops. The sticks and pebbles on the ground levitated into the air and started swirling around the dome. Merlin chanted under his breath and the pebbles stopped mid-air, then fell to the ground. Black-colored smoke wafted into the area and began blotting out the sky, darkening the surroundings. A hazy figure emerged from the thickest part of the smoke and advanced towards Merlin. Suddenly the unmistakable roar of a dragon sounded through the air and Merlin yelled out in pain as something crashed into his protective dome.

_Emrys..._

"Merlin!" Arthur yelled worriedly, running over to check on his friend. Merlin's forehead was coated with beads of sweat from exertion. "Put down the shield, let's fight this thing together."

This mysterious foe, whoever he was, had powerful magic. Merlin agreed that he stood a better chance if he could concentrate his energy on offensive attacks. "Ok...but you run the other way...when I put it down..." Merlin instructed in a strained voice.

"Not. Happening." Arthur countered, but he didn't need to argue, as Merlin's shield was already dropping (involuntarily). The smoky figure bifurcated and became two figures. One of them began to fight Merlin, emitting numerous green energy orbs that inflicted damage on whatever they touched. The other immediately made for Arthur. It was swinging a mace with what looked like a hand. Arthur managed to deflect the mace expertly each time, but could not destroy it—it was going to wear him down slowly.

In the same direction the smoke monster came from, loud metal clanging could suddenly be heard. "Quick! It looks like that thing has reached Arthur. Protect the king!" Lancelot shouted.

The smoke monsters stopped attacking for a moment, as if about to retreat, but instead began splitting again. Just as Gwaine, Lancelot, Percival, Elyan, and Ronan came crashing through the trees, they were met with six more foes, each carrying swords. Arthur narrowly missed a blow to head as he continued to deal with his own original mace-wielding smoke monster.

"Rahhhhhhhh!" Ronan yelled as he threw a rock at one of the three monsters now attacking Arthur—it passed straight through the air, as if nothing was there.

"You stupid fool," the figure taunted, "you can't hurt me." Meanwhile, the figure spinning the mace launched his weapon forward and struck Arthur down.

Ronan bolted forward as fast as he could. Grabbing the sword hanging at his belt, Ronan aimed for the smoke monster before it could strike Arthur again. "Don't be so sure."

"Ung!" The sword didn't pass through the figure, but instead seemed to strike flesh. A crack of lightning flashed across the sky and the smoke began spinning together into one giant tornado. An animalistic scream came from the mace-wielding figure, as it struck out and hit Ronan square in the chest.

"Ronan!" Merlin yelled. Now all the smoke monsters were caught in the spinning column of air except the one with the mace. The knights rushed over to where Ronan and Arthur lay. Arthur was already brushing himself off and getting to his feet—his armor had deflected most of the blow. Ronan on the hand, didn't look so good. His flimsy breastplate was completely caved in and a gash on his side (from one of the spikes on the mace) was bleeding openly. Meanwhile, the smoke surrounding the mace-wielding figure was also swept into the wind column, revealing the person underneath to be Mordred. He was laying on the ground with a sword stuck through his chest, a blank expression on his face. Elyan checked for breathing and pulse activity, neither were present.

Merlin crouched down next to Ronan, "I'm going to take a quick look at your injuries alright Ronan?"

Ronan's eyes became wide as saucers, "My name's not Ronan," voice barely a whisper. Merlin wasn't listening very carefully, assuming that Ronan was in shock and mumbling incoherently. "My name is Riona."

A big fat tear rolled down Ronan's cheek as Merlin began examining the wound, "I know it hurts, I'm sorry. I'll be gentle," Merlin soothed as Ronan weakly tried to push his hand away. At this point all the knights were gathered around, including Arthur, anxiously awaiting the verdict. Merlin gingerly lifted the breastplate then suddenly dropped it, himself now the one in shock.

"My name is Riona, and I'm a girl."

Swallowing hard, Merlin stuttered, "I-I...I'm sorry." Arthur saw Merlin's face turn a bright shade of red and realized had what happened. If the circumstances weren't so grave, the situation might have been comical—the knights were all gaping at each other, mouths wide open, as the knowledge dawned on them.

Arthur recovered the quickest, "Well, Ronan—er, Riona, now's not the time to be making deathbed confessions, because you're not dying. Merlin's going to tide you over with some healing spells and then one of us is going to get you back to Gaius. You'll be patched up in no time."

"But, aren't you...cross with me? I lied..."

Arthur sighed and stole a quick glance at Merlin, "Sometimes people lie to me, but they have their reasons. Sometimes these same people are my most loyal, courageous, and selfless servants—casting aside their own welfare to protect me."

"You took a blow for him. You protected the king," Percival added.

Riona smiled weakly and nodded in appreciation, the light in her eyes dimming, "Ramsay...was my brother. He's evil, he was created by evil. He...he's found a way to live on in Mordred's body. He must be stopped."

"Wait, aren't you a bit young to be Ramsay's sister? You can't have been alive during the Purge?" Merlin wondered.

"I'm not...the age...I appear...it's a long story…" Riona's eyes lolled back in her head and her body went limp. Merlin quickly supplemented some more curative spells, but these merely stabilized her breathing and failed to wake her. Two bolts of lightning flashed across the sky, and the whirling tornado began to emit a single wisp of black smoke. The stream of smoke flowed right into Mordred's chest wound, as if delivering life force into him. Mordred began to stir, and then with a great shout, pulled the sword out of his chest. Gwaine rushed over, sword in hand, ready to fight, just as Mordred's eyes popped open—they were green. Gwaine swung his sword forward and was about to chop off Mordred's head, when an explosion reverberated through the forest, sending Gwaine flying through the air.

"He's gone!" Elyan ran over to the now empty spot, covered in a puff of black smoke. Picking up Riona's sword, he returned to the group.

Gwaine dusted himself off and stumbled over, "I'll take the kid back to Camelot."

"No," Lancelot said, "You should go with Arthur, I'll take her. When she wakes up I can talk with her and send you ravens with the information she gives me."

"Should we be getting King Arthur back to Camelot? Perhaps he shouldn't continue on with the journey," Elyan cautioned.

"Meeting with the Druids will go a long way in securing their loyalty. It's the least I could do, to show some respect, after what they've been through all these years. My duty to the people of Camelot, as well as my moral conscience, won't let me forsake this mission," Arthur stated.

"But that being said, we would greatly appreciate more information from Riona once she wakes up," Merlin indicated to Lancelot. "The situation with our enemies seems to be more complex than we first thought." Despite Merlin's collected exterior, his insides felt like jelly at the idea that Ramsay was not dead. Being tortured by a madman like that was not something one easily forgot.

Elyan was examining Riona's sword, "This sword was also forged using magic, like King Arthur's."

"Excalibur? Merlin says this sword was forged with by a dragon's breath." Arthur explained.

Percival knit his eyebrows together, "Mordred shouldn't have been able to recover from a wound given by such a sword."

"He did at least suffer severe damage and injury though," Merlin countered, "So he'll probably be heading to Lake Avalon to recover. I should go early to—"

"Merlin, don't even think about it," Arthur interrupted.

"Arthur, you're the king, and we've seen how dangerous Mordred's become. Let me go take care of this," Merlin implored.

"What, by yourself? No, we'll face him together. You're not going off alone and fighting monsters without backup anymore. We do things together now," Arthur stated stubbornly.

"You may as well stay by Arthur's side where you can protect him better," Lancelot noted, "And I promise you, I'll get the backstory and relevant information to you as quick as possible. This way you're not going into the situation blind."

Arthur stroked his chin awhile and then finally nodded, "That sounds good. I trust you to get us what we need Lancelot. The rest of you, with me, onwards!"

* * *

Mordred was feeling less and less like Mordred. He thought for sure he was dead back in the clearing? The sword Riona used was special, and began draining his life force the minute it broke skin. As his vision had dimmed, he thought that was the end. But then suddenly he was awake again, feeling stronger in fact, but different. Mordred felt different. Ramsay's memories were now more vivid in his mind, and seemed to have a strong pull as they flashed across his mind's eye.

But all was well. There was hope again! He could still have Emrys and all that he desired, but he would need a power boost. Mordred recalled that there was a settlement near Lake Avalon, where most of the sorcerers that stormed Camelot were located. Having declined Morgause's proposal at Cenred's castle a couple weeks ago, they would likely all be there. Mordred recalled the special enchantment he used to kill Ramsay, from that special scroll in Ramsay's dungeon [3]. Smiling to himself he thought, _Just what I needed_ [4]_._

* * *

[1] Season 1 Episode 7: The Gates of Avalon

[2] Season 3 Episode 2: The Tears of Uther Pendragon

[3] In the last story Mordred took a scroll from Ramsay's dungeon that described a powerful enchantment. The first level of proficiency in this enchantment is achieved after a 40 day isolation period.

[4] In Chapter 1 of this story, the Dochraid describes the scroll as follows: "For those who are ruthless enough, the enchantment has many shortcuts that allow the practitioner to quickly increase their power level. For example, once the first basic proficiency with the incantation been achieved, after the forty days, a practitioner may drink the blood of other sorcerers to rapidly increase magic power."


	6. Chapter 6

Mordred clutched at his chest, still soaked in blood, and stumbled into the encampment. People were milling around tranquilly, communing with nature and meditating. A couple of them stopped to take note, gasping at the sight of him.

"Hel-help me," Mordred croaked. The skin around his eyes was dark and hollow, giving him a gaunt look, and there was a blood trail behind him leading out of the forest.

"Mordred? What's happened? You were fine when we last saw you at Morgause's meeting!" one of the men rushed forward to steady Mordred as he staggered along.

"H-how many of you, are here? D-did you all return?" Mordred asked.

"There are 36 of us here total, no one wanted to join Morgause in her pursuit anymore. We've decided to make peace with the new king for now. An end to all the pain and suffering, that is what we seek."

Mordred stopped walking, and crouched over, as if catching his breath. A low grumbling sound from somewhere deep within his throat began getting louder and louder, until suddenly it became a cackle. Lifting his head up, Mordred wore an expression that elicited more gasps from the sorcerers. He was grinning wildly, like a madman, looking at everyone with a predatory gleam in his eye. He threw his head back and roared into the air as ominous black smoke rushed out from his mouth. Within seconds, the entire encampment was enshrouded in utter darkness.

* * *

Lancelot was bidding goodbye to the town physician, who had just finished changing Riona's bandages. They were staying at a local inn for the night, on the road back to the Camelot. The doctor pulled Lancelot outside, "Where did you say you rescued this girl from?"

Lancelot, who was never much of a fibber, struggled to come up with a proper cover on the spot, "Uhm…"

"There are dozens of scars and old injuries on her back and legs. This girl was abused. I suggest you keep her away from whomever did that to her."

Swallowing thickly, Lancelot nodded and went back inside. Walking over to Riona's bedside, he grabbed a stool and sat down next to her. "You saved the king's life, Riona. No one is angry with you, but you need to give us more information. We can't defend ourselves if we can't get a better handle on what's going on. And I have a feeling you know much more about what's going on that we do, am I correct?"

Riona sighed miserably, but didn't speak for awhile. "Sometimes when people are overcome with grief, they act rashly, to desperately try and fill the hole in their hearts."

Lancelot nodded slowly, sensing that Riona was ready to start divulging her story, "It's human nature, I suppose."

"When I was 4-years old, I got sick. Really sick. My father, Arag, or 'Arry,' as his friends called him, was both furious and devastated. You see, three years before I was born, my mother and father had already lost a baby boy during childbirth. They'd even had a name planned out for that child: Ramsay. They were _not_ willing to lose another one." Riona winced a bit as she clutched at her wound.

"Here have some broth," Lancelot held a bowl up to her lips.

Riona took a sip and continued, "Father scoured the lands for any physician who could cure my illness, but they all gave bleak prognoses. There was a physician in Camelot, a young but talented healer named Gaius, who was willing to try, and try he did. Gaius must have accumulated half his library in the brief period he knew me, but a cure still eluded him. In a moment of desperation, he mentioned the sorceress Nimueh, who possessed powerful magic that might save me. But he seemed to regret it the minute he suggested it, saying this would be dangerous and unnatural."

"Nimueh?" Lancelot recalled, "I remember Merlin telling us that he killed her [1]. Uther believes she was responsible for Queen Ygraine's death [2]."

"This was before all that occurred. Nimueh was still in the king's good graces, and also climbing the ranks among magic-users of the land. My parents begged and pleaded with her to save my life. Eventually she agreed, but for a price," Riona shook her head sadly, "There's always a price."

"So Arthur wasn't born yet?"

"King Arthur was born three years after this incident. In fact, Gaius said that Old King Uther asked Nimueh for help conceiving a son because he'd heard of what Nimueh did for my parents."

"That means you should be…older than King Arthur."

Riona nodded, "I'll explain that part later. But regarding my illness, Nimueh cast an enchantment that gave my blood magical healing properties. Then she took some of my blood, and disappeared for a day. When she returned, she brought a 7-year old boy with her, whom she called 'Ramsay.' Father was to raise him as a son and teach him how to hunt."

"Was he…?"

"My brother? He did look a bit like father, but…he was evil," Riona's voice became quieter, "Father was working in King Alined's royal armory when the Purge began. Ramsay became fascinated by all the proceedings and his skills at extraction soon attracted King Alined's attention. While I was well-acquainted with Ramsay's propensity for violence, mother and father were horrified." Fresh tears welled up in her eyes, "Ramsay eventually had them arrested, but father asked a friend to smuggle me out of the city; a friend named Balinor [3]."

"Balinor? You mean, Merlin's father? The dragonlord?"

"The friendship between dragonlords and armorers is an age old partnership in the Northern Plains, where they hail from. Out of loyalty to my father, Balinor came to get me, but Ramsay caught up with us just as we were getting away, and shot an arrow through my heart."

"How old was Ramsay at this time?"

"13-years old."

"Only 13?"

"And I was 10. The injury I suffered was so severe that Balinor said it would take a 15-year long enchantment to heal me. Meanwhile, I would have to be frozen in a block of magical ice and hidden somewhere."

Lancelot's eyes widened, "You were frozen in a block of ice for 15 years?!"

Riona shook her head, "Balinor came to unfreeze me at 13 years—Ramsay had found me. I wasn't completely healed but Balinor imbued me with some of his magic, at great expense to himself, and taught me a spell to change my eye color. One of the sorcerers Ramsay kidnapped had cast an enchantment that allowed him to track me using my green eyes. To stay hidden, I used that spell to constantly keep my eyes brown and disguised myself as a boy, since Ramsay would be searching for a girl. I stayed on the streets, keeping a low profile, scraping by, learning what self-defense I could."

"Until King Arthur and Gwaine found you."

"Four years after I parted ways with Balinor."

"Why didn't you stay with Balinor?"

"He said King Uther's forces were hot on his trail, and would not hesitate to kill him in an instant. It was safer for me to be alone. But before we parted ways, he gave me a journal from my father. This journal documented all the details about my illness and Ramsay's creation, which I have now told you."

Lancelot nodded, soaking all the information in, "How did you know Ramsay, or Mordred, was going to attack Arthur and Merlin?"

"I didn't know that for sure," Riona responded, "But I knew Ramsay was still alive. I saw Mordred in the woods a few weeks back…and I felt Ramsay's presence. I thought he was going to capture me, but he let me go. I figured he had found a more promising source of power than my blood."

"Your blood?"

"My blood doesn't just provide healing powers to me, it provides restorative powers to anyone who can get their hands on it."

"Ah, so that was why Ramsay kept searching for you all those years."

"It just boosts a person's own healing abilities, and it's not limitless—there's a finite quantity of my magical blood. Emrys, on the other hand, has powers that are infinite and inexhaustible—while he may run low on magical energy in one particular session, his powers self-renew over time. Ramsay would have found this out when he was torturing him…"

Lancelot pursed his lips, thinking, "Your sword, is it special? Do you think it killed Ramsay?"

Riona gave Lancelot a wistful look, "Ramsay is immortal now. He will never die."

* * *

Despite the ominous incident with Mordred and his smoke monsters, Merlin and Arthur continued on through the countryside with the rest of the knights quite successfully, meeting with Druid tribes and drafting peace treaties. Not every group was always warm and welcome initially, but everyone was ready for an end to the bloodshed. They wanted peace.

The knights finally reached the outskirts of Lake Avalon, with only one more congregation of sorcerers left to meet. Merlin grew shifty and restless, unable to sleep at night even when he wasn't on duty. As such, he was practically falling off his horse when Gwaine's voice jerked him awake.

"Up ahead, I see smoke, that must be them."

"Wait," Merlin held up his hand, "Something's not right. It's too quiet."

Everyone got off their horses, and took on defensive stances. Something indeed wasn't right. Despite there being smoke from the embers of a recent campfire, there was not a single sound or movement coming from the camp. It was deathly silent. Arthur put his hand on the hilt of his sword. Stepping forward silently, the group inched towards the encampment.

"Haven't they ever heard of a wardrobe?" Gwaine remarked, poking at the heaps of clothing tattered about.

Merlin looked around, surveying the area, "I don't think that's the issue—PERCIVAL WATCH OUT!" Percival lifted his sword up just in time to parry a blow from someone who stepped out of one of the tents.

"Leon!" Arthur shouted just as Percival was knocked to his knees.

"King Arthur?" Leon face was covered in a layer of dark ash and grime, but his voice was unmistakable. "Gwaine don't lift that!"

Gwaine's sword was poised to lift up the clothing on the ground. "What? Why n—" Gwaine's voice caught in his throat as a breeze blew by, fluttering the heaps of clothing on the ground.

Corpses. They were all corpses.

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

"Those were not normal corpses, it was like…something had sucked all the water out of their bodies," Elyan shuddered as he remembered the shriveled up bodies they'd found in the encampment. Everyone was huddled around a fire—they'd followed Leon back to a small cave where he and Morgana were staying.

"I passed by that group a couple days ago, everyone was fine," Leon was saying, "They're located between here and Lake Avalon, but I don't always take the same trail. Today I thought I'd stop by—they've given me lots poultices and food for Morgana. When I stepped foot in one of the tents, I saw nothing but black smoke."

"How is…Morgana?" Arthur asked, looking over at a curled up bundle in the corner.

Leon sighed, "She's been partially healed by using Lake Avalon's waters. I bring her there every day. But recently, she's stopped healing herself. She refuses to eat and hasn't drank anything in two days. Her wakefulness and lucidity are slipping."

"I'll go take a look," Merlin glanced quickly at Arthur's face, poised like he was about to object, "Understanding the nature of her injury will help me learn more about the type of magic Mordred is using."

While Merlin went off to check on Morgana, Arthur caught Leon up on the information from Lancelot's letters. Given the situation with Mordred, there was a high likelihood that he was involved with the corpses in the encampment. Elyan felt that the suspicious conditions boded ill for Arthur's campaign; the Druids might suspect Arthur. In the end, they raised more concerns than solutions, and didn't reach any consensus on what to do next, so they agreed to renew their discussions at first light, as the hour was late.

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

Arthur's eyes were only open a crack, but he could clearly discern an awkward, bumbling figure moving about in the cave—Merlin was frantically searching around the area where Morgana had been last night, but she was gone. As Merlin quietly tiptoed over the other knights' bodies, Arthur did an internal eye roll, _I wonder how many times has Merlin snuck off on his own like this in the past? _

Merlin, not being privy to Arthur's thoughts, was unaware of any exasperation directed his way. His primary concern was on the whereabouts of Morgana, as she was not in any condition to be walking about based on his assessment of her last night. "Morgana?" he called out. Using his magic, Merlin zoomed his senses out further to see if he could detect Morgana's presence. _Oh no_, Merlin thought, _she wouldn't!_

Merlin raced through the woods at top speed, using his magic to practically fly through the air. Finally he broke through the trees and reached the banks of Lake Avalon, just as Morgana was wading in to the water. She was already knee-deep.

"Morgana! Stop!" Merlin rushed in after her.

"Go away!" Morgana didn't turn around to look at him.

Merlin splashed his way forwards and grabbed onto Morgana's arms, struggling as she tried to push him off, "Morgana what are you doing? You shouldn't be out here."

"Don't play dumb Merlin! You used your magic to listen in to my thoughts! You know what I'm doing."

"Morgana," Merlin pleaded, "Don't hurt yourself, let's just calm down and think about this. Talk to me."

Morgana had stopped wading in, and was hugging her arms tightly against her chest, shivering and sniffling, "The person I care most about this world, the only person who has ever cared about me and understood me, has abandoned me. I'm all alone now."

Merlin loosened his grip momentarily stood there forlornly. He couldn't imagine what Morgana had been through, watching Mordred change into a different person before her eyes. Since Merlin had never divulged his secret about magic to her, Morgana had suffered through the isolation and paranoia of having magic by herself. Instead of Gaius, she had Mordred. "You're not alone," Merlin mumbled.

Morgana turned around and stared at Merlin, sad eyes glistening in the early morning dawn. Glancing down she noticed that Merlin had taken her hand in his, a comforting warmth radiating from their point of contact. "What are you doing?"

"You're not alone, and not everyone has abandoned you," Merlin was focusing on a taxing healing spell, summoning up all the magic he could muster and channeling it to Morgana's body. The air around them began glittering with light, thousands of diamond-like sparkles dancing above the water. Hints of violet and lavender scent wafted in with a cool mist that swirled around them. So demanding was this enchantment that Merlin found himself having to lean on Morgana's shoulder for support. As more and more magic poured out of his body, Merlin heard the last voice he wanted to hear at this moment.

"Morgana! My love," on the banks was none other than Mordred himself, looking pale and ghastly, yet very much alive. Smiling darkly, he knew that Merlin was at his most weak and vulnerable state. With the fearsome mace in hand, Mordred stepped foot on the water began gliding towards them, hovering on the surface. Mordred's eyes burned bright gold-orange as he swung the mace above his head and flung it out towards Merlin.

Merlin watched the flaming dragon's head race towards him, knowing that if he closed the connection between him and Morgana now, she would end up in worse condition than she was before. He tried to throw up a weak shield but it wasn't able to deflect Mordred's attack—the dragon head tore through his chest and its momentum made him stumble forward a few steps. Stubbornly, he clenched his jaw and straightened back up, trying to slowly stem the outflow of energy from his body into Morgana's—doing so too quickly would likely mean Morgana's death.

"Merlin? You…" Morgana whispered in shock. Mordred, now close enough to speak without shouting, was licking his lips, fully aware that Merlin couldn't properly defend himself at the moment.

"You did well, Morgana. You've redeemed yourself."

Shaking her head, Morgana stared in horror at Merlin's confused eyes, swirling with turmoil and hurt, "No, no I didn't. I wasn't—"

"You were right, my love. I didn't have the power necessary, to capture Emrys. He would have killed me, if it weren't for your assistance. It's a testament to his legendary ability that's he's even still standing after an attack from the combined magical power of 36 different sorcerers," Mordred's eyes began glowing again, this time a darker, fiery orange, "But I doubt he can handle another."

The sparkles surrounding Merlin and Morgana fizzled out as Merlin finally managed to extricate himself from the connection with Morgana. He was about to yell out an incantation and attack Mordred when he heard, "MERLIN!"

Arthur stormed out of the woods and onto the bank just in time to see Mordred slam the glowing mace into a distracted Merlin. A shudder reverberated through Merlin's body and blood sprayed out of his mouth. Arthur felt his heart stop.

"Arthur! Get…back," Merlin said through gritted teeth, and threw up a clear blue shield around Arthur, who could now only watch as Mordred delivered a third blow with the mace to his best friend.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Arthur screamed as he watched Merlin's eyes rolled back in their sockets. The water around Mordred, Merlin, and Morgana became inky blank, and began spinning around them as a dark hole opened up in the middle of the lake. Grabbing Merlin by the scruff of his neck, Mordred descended with Morgana into the void.

* * *

[1] Season 1 Episode 13: Le Morte d'Arthur

[2] Season 2 Episode 8: The Sins of the Father

[3] Season 2 Episode 13: The Last Dragonlord

**A/N Woooo! Hopefully there are finally some answers for you guys, even though it kind of ends in a cliffie. So to clarify, Riona is 14 years old, though technically, if you were to count her time frozen in ice, she would be 27. Ramsay was 30 when we met him in the last story. Would love to hear your thoughts and reviews pleaaaaase! Thank you :)**


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